Feelin' Alright
by bearsbeetsbattlestargalactica
Summary: Percy and Annabeth's date at a roller-skating rink doesn't quite go off without a hitch. Fluffy Percabeth one-shot.


**A/N: Here's a little Percabeth one-shot! Hope you all enjoy, and please review!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the PJO franchise or the image, and I didn't write the song 'Piano Man'. Sorry to disappoint.**

 **Rating: T**

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Feelin' Alright

The slushie tasted like a melted cherry cough drop, the pizza so slick with grease that a puddle of oil pooled on the scratched linoleum table. I poked at the slushie with a plastic straw disinterestedly, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

"What? Not your style, Chase?"

I folded my arms, leaning back in the plastic booth. "No," I said. "I just…" I looked up at the ceiling, and immediately wished I hadn't. Even in the dim lighting, I could glimpse a thick blanket of cobwebs quilted across the ceiling rafters, made heavy with grime and grit. Wrinkling my nose, I turned my attention back to the slushie and jabbed it with my straw.

"Oh, I see," Percy said, his lips twitching. "You think you're better than this. You think you're above this _clearly_ top notch cuisine." He held up his half-frozen pretzel, dripping with rubbery cheese and bright white salt.

"I think a rat is above this top notch cuisine," I said dryly. "You know, Percy, when you asked me on a date, I sort of thought…" I trailed off, gesturing around us. "That, you know, the food would be at least edible."

"It is edible," he pointed out. "I've seen you take at least two sips of that slushie."

"Call it a momentary lapse of judgment on my part." I sighed, dragging my hand through my hair, glancing around. "At least the whole meal only costed about five bucks."

"Exactly. No one ever said I wasn't fiscally responsible."

My mouth tugged upward in a reluctant smile. "I can't get over the fact that you just used the word 'fiscally'."

"Eh," he said, slurping his own blue slushie. I wondered if it tasted like blueberry cough drops, and then wondered if there was such a thing as blueberry cough drops. "Expanding my vocabulary, and all that. You've rubbed off on me, Chase."

My cheeks reddened, and I traced a pattern in the linoleum with my fingertip. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'm not."

I glanced up at him. "You know, you'd think that after all we've been through, we'd be able to have something as simple as a casual date at a roller-skating rink."

Of course, it might help if the roller-skating rink in question wasn't so unbearably filthy. It was one of those places that had been there since the dawn of time, the '50s or '60s at least, old enough to have been in place the day President Kennedy was assassinated. The rink itself was made of greasy, uneven floorboards, the rest of the floor coated with threadbare carpet. A battered disco ball hung haphazardly from the ceiling, a few lights flickering on and off. Rickety arcade games spanned one cinderblock wall, while the sales, concessions, and ticket exchange booths spanned another. Lining the walls of the ticket exchange booth were a glassy-eyed doll with bright yellow braids, a few stale jawbreakers, and a Walkman—a real, genuine, honest-to-God Walkman—steadily gathering dust.

A pair of grimy roller skates were laced up on my feet, making me feel clumsy and unbalanced. Agile and trained to kill as I was, my skills with roller skates were limited at best. I tended to flail around wildly, spiraling out of control. And that was when I tried to skate in a straight line, much less attempt the loop-de-loops and figure-eights some of the skaters were performing.

Percy sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're seventeen, Chase," he said. "You're not allowed to be this cynical."

"And yet I continue to defy the odds."

"That's it." He stood, picking up the gummy concession food and dropping it into a plastic wastebasket. He outstretched a hand. "C'mon, Annabeth. They're playing The Police. _Spirits in the Material World,_ I think. It's a crime not to skate to kickass '80s rock, and you know it."

I protested, but my meager pleas fell on deaf ears as Percy yanked me to my feet. He led me over to the rink, hand-in-hand, as I wobbled and latched onto his shoulder for support. He grinned, glancing back at me, and my cheeks pinked. There was something about Percy that made me lose my head every time I was around him, my stomach pitching like I was on a boat in choppy waters. Maybe it had to do with his smile, the way it was slightly lopsided and crooked, and his eyes, sea-glass green, I thought. Or maybe it just had to do with Percy, and the way he could make me feel like there was no one in the room but the two of us.

"It's alright," he said. "I've got you."

Two wars and more near-death experiences than I could count, and I still couldn't manage to roller-skate around a dingy old rink.

"Stop," he said. "I can see the negative energy floating around you."

I snorted. "What are you going to do now, rebirth my chakra?"

"Rebirth your what-a?"

I shook my head. "Never mind."

Percy sighed. "Close your eyes."

A new song came on – this time a Billy Joel song, _Piano Man,_ predictably enough. I shook my head, still smiling. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'm shutting my eyes right now, Seaweed Brain."

"Ah, the old nickname. How I've missed that one." He looked amused. "Close your eyes, Wise Girl."

"Not on your life."

He leaned in then, his intoxicating scent enveloping me; the ocean and chocolate-chip cookies. I let out a wistful sigh, not of my own volition. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Do you trust me?"

 _Do you trust me?_

How could I not? I'd know him almost six years now, and he'd always been there for me, every single time, aside from the months when he was ripped away from me, his memory eradicated. And even then **—** he'd told me **—** he was still looking for me. He'd gone to hell and back with me, trekked from coast to coast to bring me back home, held the weight of the world on his shoulders for me.

How could I not?

"Yes," I whispered. And closed my eyes.

Percy led me, his hands on mine, and I glided. No longer consumed with balance, we skated in tandem, him in semi-darkness, me in complete darkness. And for that one moment, our wars and our world so far away from that old roller-skating rink, I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of sweat and makeup, cologne and perfume, greasy pizza and stale candy, and _lived,_ melting into the air. Breathing for what seemed like the first time in forever.

 _Sing us a song, you're the piano man,_

 _Sing us a song tonight,_

 _Well, we're all in the mood for a melody,_

 _And you've got us feelin' alright._

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 **A/N: Hope you all liked it! Please review!**


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